Don't Look Back
by Mondeo
Summary: DM songfic to Tiffany's song Danny. The boys consider their relationship after the shooting and whether or not they can make it work.


**Title :** Don't Look Back  
**Pairing: **Danny/Martin  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Author's Notes:** I don't own Without a Trace, because if I did Elena wouldn't have been allowed near the show. The lyrics don't belong to me either, so please don't sue. And a huge thank you to Stef who kept me company writing slash on the train. This was originally written for the **dmundercover** fic exchange on LJ.  
**Summary:** Fic inspired by Tiffany's song _Danny_. Features both boy's POV as they consider their relationship post-shooting and whether or not they can make it work.

* * *

_Here in the dark,  
Silence is much too hard to bear.  
Don't know where to start,  
I'm hurtin' everywhere._

After the shooting Danny keeps his distance. He tells himself it's because Martin needs space to process the event or some other neat phrase they've been taught on one of the various FBI training courses. But the truth is that he just doesn't know what to say. He never does in these situations, even though he's dealt with so many now he feels like it should be routine.

So he visits twice a week, a figure he decided showed he cared but wasn't spending every waking moment worrying about Martin. The visits are spent making what can only be described as small talk, while Danny sits in a chair a respectable distance from the bed. He's not sure when it became so essential that no one suspected they were involved, but somehow it gives him a sense of control over the situation.

Even when he gets home he doesn't fall apart. He can't explain why. He suspects it's his way of filling the uptight and repressed void that Martin has left in his life. He doesn't share this thought with anyone, because deep down he thinks it's a little bit pathetic. They'd been involved, as Martin liked to put it, before the shooting, but it wasn't like they were picking out china. It was just physical, like a therapy for both of them. Danny isn't sure of the rules of their relationship, which isn't a relationship at all, of course, but he has a feeling that waking up every night seeing Martin's eyes filled with fear as Danny fumbles to stop the bleeding isn't the correct reaction.

Yet this is what happens. Night after night he hears the gunshot and then there's a horrible, sickening blur of blood and shouting. Mostly it is Danny's own voice he hears, but sometimes he hears Martin's cursing him for letting this happen. It should have been Danny; it was his turn to drive. But he'd pouted and complained until, reluctantly, Martin had agreed to toss a coin. And Martin tells him this over and over in his nightmare, until finally Danny wakes up begging for forgiveness.

This is another secret Danny feels he has to keep. Because he knows a therapist would tell him not to blame himself, that it was just bad luck. He knows the truth though. If he wasn't such a stubborn asshole then Martin wouldn't be in that hospital bed. He's the one with the bright future in the FBI. He's the one that's going places. Danny knows he's likely to remain in Missing Persons for the rest of his career, because he refuses to play the inter-office political game that seems so popular among the Feds. But Martin, he's one of the bright hopes of the Bureau. It shouldn't be him. It tortures Danny, but he knows it's all his fault and nothing can change his mind.

_Danny when you take your mark,  
Danny with your aim,  
Danny for my heart,  
It's only pain._

It's funny, Martin thinks, how one moment can change everything. In the time it took a bullet to tear through his body, his relationship with Danny was somehow altered. They went from cracking jokes and sharing stolen glances to making awkward conversation from opposite sides of a sterile, white room. He wants to bring it up but he can never find the right moment in between their chat about the weather and hospital food.

He probably shouldn't be worrying about this. He should be concentrating on getting better, as his mother is constantly reminding him. Not that he's discussed the issue of Danny at length with her. He's been tempted, when she asks for the hundredth time if he's seeing anyone. He smirks, imagining her face if he were to come clean and say, "Actually, I've not been looking for anything serious, but I've been sleeping with my co-worker." He would pause for dramatic effect before adding, "You remember Danny, don't you?"

Yes, that would probably go down a storm with his whole family. He knows they're all expecting him to settle down with a nice girl in the 'burbs, have some kids, a dog and a white picket fence. He'd thought that was what he wanted too. Even when he'd started spending the night at Danny's, he'd still sort of assumed he'd end up like that. He'd had a vague, absurd idea that he's look back on this period of his life as nothing more than experimentation. Something everyone should try once. He'd done that gay fuck buddy thing, so that could be crossed off the list.

He's not sure when it became something more than that. There wasn't really a moment when a light bulb above his head pinged on and he realised that this all might actually have some meaning. It had been a shock to realise that he was no longer doing it to forget, but instead spent his days remembering what had happened the night before. It hadn't been supposed to get this complicated. It wasn't supposed to matter to him like this. And yet there was an ache inside him that grew each night Danny didn't show up.

He'll be out of hospital soon, and he doesn't want it to carry on like this. He doesn't want to keep talking about work, hearing stories of all the people they've saved in his absence. He wants the old Danny and Martin back. He wants the private jokes and secret smiles back. But to get this he has to tell him, and Martin's not sure he can admit it to himself, let alone Danny, the affect he's had on his heart.

Yes, it's funny (in a sad, pathetic, punch-to-the-stomach sort of way) how one moment can change everything.

_If it's your pride,  
Promise you won't let it keep us apart.  
Deep down inside,  
We can make a new start._

When Martin returns to the office, Danny can't help but think that a bullet to the abdomen must agree with him. And as for the cane, the thoughts it provoked gave plenty to occupy his mind. Yet he feels like he did when Martin first started. Looks good, but it'll never happen. The fact that _it_ has already happened seems somehow irrelevant now, because Martin seems different now. His eyes seem tired, his every movement slowed by the weight of the injury. He seems older too, the rookie's enthusiasm dulled by the experience.

Danny wants to take this pain away. But he's learned that people only get hurt trying to fix others. He's seen it countless times on the job. Hell, he's pretty sure he even did the hurting when he was still drinking. Yet somehow it doesn't matter to him, because this is _Martin_ . Still, the shooting has probably made him realise that life is short, and he can't waste it messing around with a male co-worker. He'll see that he needs to go out, find a girl and have some babies before it's too late. While Danny doesn't mind getting hurt, he can't face being rejected, so he doesn't tell Martin. He knows it's stupid, and that really he's just cutting off his nose to spite his face, so to speak, yet still he can't bring himself to lay his heart on the line like that for anyone. Not even Martin.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

When Martin returns to the office, he tries to avoid Danny. He wants to see him more than anyone, but he can't let Danny see him like this. He can't expect Danny to be interested in someone who has to use a cane to get around. Even if Danny wanted to pick up where they left off, it wouldn't be an option right now because he has the mobility of an old man. Which probably isn't all that attractive.

He's sitting at his desk trying to imagine himself in a Hugh Hefner style outfit when Danny walks over. Since he's not really up to a quick getaway, he's forced to sit and look pleased to see him, as though he's been meaning to talk to him and just hasn't got around to it yet. Danny smiles, makes a remark about Martin's tie and even calls him Fitzy again. For a moment it's like nothing has changed and it gives Martin the courage to say, "I think we need to talk." Danny looks expectant, as though Martin will start pouring his heart out right there in full view of everyone. He's a little more repressed than that though, so instead he asks Danny to come to his apartment after work.

As soon as Danny leaves he starts making notes about what he wants to say, and almost wants to laugh at himself for being such a boy scout. His dad was very fond of their motto "Be prepared" although the idea of his dad advising him on his current situation makes Martin want to laugh.

_Danny don't look back,  
On the price we pay.  
Well that's all I ask,  
'Cause we'll never make it this way._

It's only after he arrives at the apartment that Danny realises how few times he's actually been there. They almost always end up back at his, although he'd never really noticed before. For some reason it makes him feel more confident, because maybe this is a step forward for Martin. Maybe it's a sign that he wants to get more serious, that he doesn't want it to just be about sex anymore. With a little less trepidation, he knocks.

When he steps into the apartment, his heart sinks. The overwhelming smell is of coffee. Normally, this would be a cause for celebration, but Danny knows from past experience that people break up over coffee. He's pretty sure he's blown any chance he had, with his goddamn talk about the weather. Martin's probably met a nice girl. That nurse who had her eye on him maybe, he thinks with a stab of jealousy which he probably shouldn't feel, since this is clearly all his fault.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Martin is panicking. He's been doing it most of the day, because this isn't something he usually does. He doesn't invite people over to talk, he doesn't get involved with colleagues, and he certainly doesn't fall in love with men.

The feeling is stupid and illogical, he knows this, but maybe that's why he likes it. His whole life has been planned out before him as long as he can remember, but now he has no idea where a part of it is going. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it's unfamiliar and that's why he feels a lost right now. But if he has to find his way with someone, he's happy for Danny to be that person.

So he sits down beside Danny, looks him dead in the eye and just… speaks. For the first time in his life he really gets across what he's saying, better than any of his speeches from his high school election campaign ever could. He tells Danny how afraid he was when he saw the blood seeping through his shirt, how the last thing he remembers is that Danny's eyes looked darker because he'd gone so pale, and most of all how the only person he wanted to see when he woke up was Danny.

Finally, Danny takes his hand and says, "I'm… I'm sorry I wasn't there more. I just couldn't stand to see you like that, because of me." He finds himself explaining the coin toss and how, really, if you think about it, none of this would have happened if he'd been a better partner. "I want this more than anything in the world, but I can't expect you to forgive me."

And suddenly, to Martin, it all makes sense. Danny hadn't avoided visiting because he didn't care; it was because he cared too much. He knows then that he has to be the one to take the step forward, because otherwise it'll be far too easy to live in the past, forever regretting the events of a night that already seems so far away.

"It's not your fault. If we wanted to blame people we could be here all night. Dornvald for shooting me, Jack for making me go with you, Paige Adams for going missing. But it was just bad luck. I've been angry, sure. I've blamed all these people, but I never blamed you for a second." He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever happens next, "In fact, I think I might even have fallen in love you." At Danny's look of utter shock, he backtracks slightly, "A little bit, maybe."

Danny leans in and kisses him, with teeth and tongue and wandering hands. It's fantastic, but the sensations are nothing compared to the feeling Martin gets when Danny whispers into his mouth, "Me too, Fitzy."


End file.
